The Next Generation
by Creax
Summary: An entirely different life they would ever experience in their next cycle of rebirth into the modern cities of dark Tokyo. What lies ahead of them?


**The Next Generation  
**  
Prologue  
**  
Saiyuki © Minekura Kazuya**  
  
**Author's notes:** Here I am again; getting new inspiration for new stories with yet to be completed stories that would be on hold. This was originally _"Guilty Assassination: Complicated Love" _but I think this will be too soft for this dark story. Well, not really dark, but this story is definitely not an everyday thing for me to write. I may be known for writing Mary Sues stories, but this is a twist. No additional characters, just pure characters from the series itself!**  
Warnings:** There may have some pairings though I'm trying to figure out nice pairings for all. I'm warning ya, this is NOT an OC's story. This will most probably turn out to be SxG+H or SxG & GxH… etc. Suggestions: send'em in! This is after all, my very first yaoi fic. Be gentle with the reviews.  
  
**X X X X**  
**Introduction:**  
With a twist, Sanzo is no longer a monk in his next life. He is a cold-hearted freelance assassin who works in the night. Hakkai, no longer able to channel his Ki or heal, is Goku's so-called 'butler'. Goku, who will appear more matured in my story, is a rich kid yet spoiled but with a kind heart and a one-of-a-kind characteristic. Lastly, Gojyo, no longer demonic, he is on the run(a fugitive) to escape from the heartless underworld gang, "Dark Skies", who framed him for countless sickening crimes he didn't commit. He will soon know the meaning behind all this…and needs Sanzo's help. Goku will be Dark Skies's next victim . . . why? Stay tuned to find out . . .  
**X X X X**  
  
_In this world, you either choose to live or die.  
In this world, you can either be strong or weak.  
In this world, choose to be the leader or to be ordered.  
  
In my world, rules are rewritten._  
  
**Sanzo's POV:**  
"That damn bell!" I rummaged blindly through my messy bedside table and took the screeching alarm by its head and threw it against my bedroom door, silencing it. I buried my head under my comfortable pillow, recalling my last night's nightmare.  
  
Golden eyes. They were sparkling with life. Are those of cat's eyes . . . or could it be a human's eyes? It was too incredible yet impossible.  
  
A knock on the door interrupted my thoughts. "Mr. Genjo Sanzo, a parcel awaits you. Please come and sign to confirm its' yours." The postman hollered, as though I was presumed deaf. Unaware of being half-naked, I got off my bed with only my black leather pants worn and answered the postman's request. He looked shocked to see me . . . I wonder why. Back to the parcel I was holding, I tore off the envelope and the wiggly scrawls stared back at me. "Argh . . . whose handwritings are these?!" They got on my nerves when I had to slowly decode the message meant for me.  
  
Finally, after several minutes of struggles, this parcel was from my aunt living in States. "Oh brother . . . that hopeless case, stupid 'Mercy' aunt is . . . coming?!!" I was shocked stiff, therefore, nearly destroying her precious gift she specially bought for me.  
  
"Grr . . . what perfect timing . . ." I grumbled as I used my leg to slam the door shut, unknowingly frightened two high school girls who were busy staring at my gorgeous body and giggling at each other, filling with themselves up with some crappy jokes I think.  
  
**Hakkai's POV:**  
"The Son's Residence is a nice place to work, isn't it, Maria?" I smiled at her when she entered the kitchen, carrying more dirty dishes. Dinner just ended and the cook was so exhausted, he literally fell asleep beside the stove. Luckily, he was not that heavy and I dragged his stool he was seated on and tucked him comfortably in a corner.  
  
"Oh my, look at him. He's been working too hard these few days. Why is Master Goku so selfish? He's been inviting his friends over too frequently. You should advise him, Hakkai. After all, you're his personal favourite butler or, maybe, friend." She left me to begin her washing with her fellow servants. Pondering for a few seconds, I thought she's right after all. I made my way to the back porch, where Master Goku always hang out with his friends after dinner.  
  
**Goku's POV:**  
Such a lonely night . . . why did my friends have to leave me so fast? Hmmm . . . a bright night tonight…  
  
"Master Goku?" Hakkai called from behind. "Yes? I told you to call me Goku." I reminded him. He smiled sheepishly and replied, "Sorry, Goku, force of habit . . . Eh? Where are your friends?" He noticed a change in my expression. I looked away from him and stared down my mansion, giving my random attention to the calm waters of the lake glittering under the full moon.  
  
"They went home . . ."  
"Oh . . ."  
  
Silence suddenly became so overpowering, it sounded so disturbing. Hakkai chose to start again.  
  
"Goku . . ." He started yet stopped, hesitant.  
"Go on . . . start with your reprimands." I persisted.  
"It's just that . . . our kitchen staffs are worn out after these consecutive days of activities. You should take their feelings into consideration. They're tired, Goku."  
"Okay. . . I'm tired too. Let's call it a day."  
  
**Gojyo's POV:**  
Scurries of hurried footsteps passed over me. I peered out cautiously to the opening of the drain cover above me. I heaved a silent relief to myself and slumped against the slimy cold wall, I didn't care much. I was already soaked inside out, my sweat mixed with the icy night rain and the sewage water. Pushing my fringes aside, my fingers trailed to my freshly formed artificial scar on my cheek . . . it was from them.  
  
Speaking of _them_, I am who they want me to be now, a fugitive. What had I done to make them have a grudge against me? My whole family were killed in front of my own eyes.  
  
My brother . . . my mother . . . and my father . . . argh! My left leg . . . I clutched my injured leg as I was viciously attacked by them. They had no mercy on me, they slashed, hit, kicked . . . even occasionally stabbed my poor tired bruised body. I was so damn lucky to escape from them. Heard that no one ever survived them before.  
  
I hobbled and limped my way out the sewage pipe, not caring about the horrible strong stench or the stinky water wetting me as I struggled along, with the help of the wall to grab on.  
  
Will anyone reach out to help me. . . I'm in such pain. My heart's aching with the loss. My body's crying with blood. My eyes are pouring tears of loneliness ahead me.  
  
I'm getting tired of my life.  
  
_**To Be Continued**_  



End file.
